


Four Days at a Time

by fewmoredays



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:47:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fewmoredays/pseuds/fewmoredays
Summary: The story of how apprentice Katarina not only meets Asra 6 years before the game's timeline.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a rework of the fanfic I wrote in 2018, but hopefully this one will be better and also completed.

Smoke surrounded me, filling my vision and clogging up my lungs. I gasped desperately, hands scraping at the walls that seemed to close in on me. A voice called out my name through the smoke and I swung my head around, trying to find where it was coming from. I attempted to answer before I heard it again. 

“Katarina?” they called. Their voice simultaneously sounded close and far away. I racked my brain, searching for a name to call out. The voice sounded so familiar, and yet I was sure I’d never heard it before. I used my arms to pull myself forward to where I thought the voice was coming from, the walls pressing against my sides. I could feel myself getting dizzier with each moment. I let myself fall, arms too tired to pull me along any further. Hands cupped my face and lifted my chin, but I could no longer open my eyes to see the person in front of me. 

“Katarina I’m so sorry,” they said, words filled with regret. The person holding me shuddered, as if holding back a sob. I let myself relax into their hands, managing to whisper out one last thought. 

“You’re too late.” 

I snap open my eyes, looking around me wildly. My mother stands in the doorway to my room, wringing her hands in concern. The sun is setting outside, its rays dimly lighting up my room. Maman comes and sits on the bed, taking my hand. She squeezes it gently and looks at me, lips pursed. 

“Nightmare?” she asks quietly. For a moment I think about lying to her, but there is no way that she’d believe me. I nod. “You know Katarina, a nightmare before a big journey means nothing good. Maybe you should stay here.” 

She looks hopeful, but we both know there’s no way I’d stay. I squeeze her hand back and kiss her cheek. 

“Maman, I love you, but I have to do this. You know I could never stay here.” I get up and grab my satchel, slinging it over my shoulder. Maman follows me out to the front door where my sister and father are. They all hug me, smushing my face into Papa’s chest. I’ve never seen him cry before, but if I’m not mistaken his breath is a little shallow. My sister Mia cries, but honestly I’m not sure that she knows why. At 4 years old I don’t think she really knows that I’m leaving, and I definitely don’t think she’ll remember me when I come back. My mind wanders to my nightmare. If I come back. I shake my head and break from the group. Maman gives me a shaky smile while Papa kisses my forehead. 

“I’ll miss you,” I say, shifting the bag on my shoulder. Papa lifts Mia onto his shoulders and waves at me while Maman whispers a prayer. I open the door and feel the cool night air hit my face. I close the door and try not to look back, fighting the tears that I feel welling up. This is the first time I’ve ever left my family before, and though I’m going to stay with my aunt, I can’t help but feel a wave of loneliness wash over me. This village has been my whole world for 15 years. My family and my neighbors have been there for me ever since I can remember, and I’m just leaving them behind. I push back any doubts in my head and I move forward. 

I follow the stars as my father had taught me too. As soon as my aunt had extended the invitation for me to live with her and be her apprentice in Vesuvia I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. Vesuvia was such a large city, and I’d heard all about the glamor of the palace. My parents were very against it from the start. No one had left our village since my aunt did many moons ago, and to be honest I think Maman is still upset about it. But I begged and begged every day until they relented. I think they realized that had they said no I would have left anyway, and it was much safer to teach me how to reach Vesuvia than let me wander alone with no clue. Papa had me study the stars at night, showing me which stars I should follow when it was time for me to leave. I began to go on long walks with my neighbors, nothing too far, but enough to build up my stamina. Maman showed me where to find water, what plants were safe to eat, and how to treat minor wounds. I know it pained them to see me go, but it’s something I have to do. 

Why is it important? Why is it so important for a sixteen-year-old girl to go on a journey that would take at least a month by foot to live with an aunt whom she had met once before to work as a seamstress when she could have easily been one in her own town? Well, quite frankly, it just feels right. Sure, the village of Azmarin had always been a home to me, but it never felt right that I stay. If my aunt had never sent that letter, maybe I would have never left. However, when I received that letter it all made sense, and no matter who would try to stop me I knew it was just where I was meant to be. 

Unfortunately, all the training I had done over the past year hadn’t really prepared me for the real thing. Sure I know where the stars lead and what plants are dangerous and whatnot, but I was nowhere near prepared for the monotony of traveling through the desert day after day. The scenery rarely changes, there’s not really much shelter, and the alternating temperatures are really doing a number on my body. After about a week of travel I collapse under one of the only trees I can find, groaning as I take my shoes off. My feet are swollen and my leg muscles aren’t faring much better. I’m not sure that I’ll be able to walk soon. I groan, both out of pain and frustration. I can’t afford to delay on my trip to Vesuvia, but I also can’t rick permanently damaging my legs. I’m so lost in thought that I completely miss the figure standing in front of me. They clear their throat and I jump, eyes snapping to their face. A cheerful, sunburned face smiles at me. 

“Hey there,” they say, extending a hand. I look at it skeptically and they just laugh. “You look a little worse for wear.” 

“I’ll have you know I am perfectly fine,” I retort. They only look at my feet, blistered and purple. 

“I’ll tell you a secret kid, I’m a doctor, and I know that that certainly isn’t fine.” They frown slightly before reaching into their bag. “Now, I know I’m a stranger and you have no reason to trust me, but I’m going to rub this on your feet, okay?” I look incredulously at them before sighing. Taking it as consent, they rub a salve onto my feet and legs. The salve numbs my muscles and I watch as my blister slowly shrink before my eyes. They smile and put away their salve, offering a hand again. 

“I’m Nazali, and you are?” 

“...Katarina.”  
“That’s a great name! Now Katarina, I have a feeling you’re on your way somewhere. Where are you going?” 

“I’m headed to Vesuvia to become an apprentice to my aunt.” I shouldn’t really be telling them all this information, but they seem friendly. 

“Ah, Vesuvia! I’m headed there myself, actually. My little sis just got crowned Countess there. I can give you a ride, it’s much faster.” I think it over. It’s probably not the safest to ride with a complete stranger, but I’m also not keen on another three weeks of wandering the desert. I nod and they help me up. They lead me to the strange beast they rode on, patting its neck. I must look nervous because they laugh. 

“Never seen a camel before? No need to be shy, she won’t bite.” Nazali grabs my waist and effortlessly hoists me onto the camel's back before I can even process what happened. They chuckle and lead us further into the desert. 

The trip took two weeks, which was pretty fast considering on my own I'd assume it would have taken about twice that. For the most part I rode the camel while Nazali walked beside me, but they didn't seem to mind. Sometimes we traded spots, mainly because of my insistence, but for the most part we stayed in our positions: me on the camel and Nazali by my side. They were full of stories from their travels, and it seemed like they had been literally everywhere in the world. I listened as they talked about their life on the sea, on the war front, and in their home of Prakra. Occasionally I offered up a story from my home town, but they paled in comparison to their stories. Still, they seemed to enjoy my company and before I knew it, we had arrived at the gates of Vesuvia. I dismount the camel and look at Nazali sheepishly. 

“Thank you for your help,” I begin. “I wish I had a way to repay you. Maybe when I start selling cloth as a seamstress I can offer so-.” Nazali waves their hand. 

“No need for repayment dearie. I’m always one to help a traveler in need. Just promise me you’ll make it to your aunt’s safely. It sure would be a waste for me to bring you this way only for you to get lost in the last leg.” I nod and hold up a crudely drawn map my aunt Delia had drawn for me. Nazali smiles and fondly pats my head. “I better make my way to the palace. Good luck kid.” 

Nazali hops on the camel and somehow manages to disappear in the crowd. I take a deep breath and head into the crowd as well. If anything will get me to Aunt Delia’s, hopefully it’ll be my promise to Nazali. I look in what I hope is the right direction and head off.


	2. Chapter 2

The crowds are definitely a change to the sleepy streets of Azmarin. My mouth drops open as I take in all the new things around me. People are dressed in much more vibrant colors than I'm used to and talk much louder, or maybe it's due to the sheer volume if people. Smells bombard my nose to the point that I'm not even sure what I'm smelling. I slip through the crowd, weaving in and out, hoping to find somewhere I can grab fresh air. The crowd is starting to be overwhelming, and if I don't find a way out of it soon I feel as if I'm going to pass out. I manage to find an alleyway where I collapse onto the ground. A couple walking past eye me suspiciously, but other than that no one notices.

It's funny to think that I thought the most challenging part of Vesuvia would be it's winding streets and size, yet here I am, barely able to enter the gates without being overwhelmed. I let out a small giggle. It's definitely different, but this is my new home. I gather myself and stand up, ready to head back into the crowd.  
As I do, a commotion starts. I follow everyone's gaze down the street, wondering what could draw the attention of so many people. Then I see it. Well actually, I see her. A beast pulls a wagon, no, something far more royal than a wagon, down the streets. In the wagon is the most regal woman I've ever seen. Her purple hair frames her face as she surveys the crowd. She smiles and waves, and I think I see several people swoon. The man next to her, who quite frankly I hadn't noticed until now, stands to address the crowd.

"Dear people of Vesuvia," he declares with a flourish. "Meet my beloved wife, the new Countess Nadia." The crowd roars in approval. I blink in surprise. This is Nazali's sister? As they draw nearer I start to see a resemblance in features, but I may never have made the connection if Nazali hadn't told me. The Countess looks over, and perhaps it is my imagination but I almost feel like we make eye contact. Then, she looks forward again and the wagon pushes on. 

The crowd starts to dissipate and I glance at my map, once again headed towards my aunt's shop. Okay, no more distractions, I think to myself. I make it about another twenty feet before I am, in fact, distracted. A snake slithers along the cobblestone, coming at me at full speed. I try to move out of the way but it's too late. The snake hits my foot, and instead of continuing down the road decides to slide up my leg. My breath catches in my throat as it moves over my pants and up to my waist. I freeze, unsure how to proceed. I hear running footsteps coming towards me, as well as labored breathing. 

"Faust, what are you doing?" the person approaching me asks, holding onto their legs as they catch their breath. The snake, Faust?, circles my waist and gives it a light squeeze. The person in front of me lifts his head, fluffy white curls gone askew. His focus is completely on the snake around my waist. He reaches a hand out and touches my hip. "Come on girl, you know better than to run off like that."

The snakes slowly peels off me and grabs onto his arm, sliding until she disappears into his scarf. I breathe a sigh of relief, which turns into a cough when I realize this strange boy is still holding onto my hip. He looks up, startled, as if he didn't even notice I was there. My heart skips a beat when I make eye contact with him. His eyes, as purple as the snake that was just on me, look at me curiously. He stands up and brushes off his hands, embarrassed.

"Sorry about that," he says, running his fingers through his hair. "She's never run off like that before." 

"It's alright," I say with a shrug. What else am I supposed to say in this situation? It's not alright, you and your snake just violated my personal bubble? It's fine, I love it when strange boys let their snake climb all over me? We continue to make awkward eye contact until he clears his throat.

"Well, I'd best be off. Thanks for your help." Before I can say anything he turns around and walks off. Faust's head peeks over his shoulder and flicks her tongue at me. On impulse I stick my tongue out back. I shake my head and finally, finally head off to Aunt Delia's uninterrupted.

When I reach the shop I hesitate. I've come so far, but what if she's not here? Or what if she is here and she doesn't recognize me? Or what if the letter was a sham? Or what if-? Before I can think of another what if the door swings open and Aunt Delia wraps me up in a warm hug. She looks just as I remember, save a few more grey hairs. She holds me firmly by the shoulders and looks me up and down before hugging me again. She ushers me into the shop without a word, pushing me into a chair. She hums as she pulls out a kettle of tea and pours it in a small cup for me, then turns around and pulls out a tray of biscuits.. She pulls up another chair and it is then she talks.

"Katarina dear, I'm so glad you made it!"  
"Aunt Delia, were you expecting me?" There's no way she just had tea and biscuits ready at any given time, right? It would be reasonable for her to know roughly what day I arrived seeing as my parents sent a letter a week before I left, but then again, riding with Nazali had cut my trip short. And for her to know exactly when I'd be at her door? That was one crazy coincidence. She smiles, eyes twinkling.

"Well of course sweetheart. You know my timing is always impeccable." I suppose this was true. Though I had only met her once, Maman had told me stories of how she always knew when things were about to happen. I guess some people have niche talents. I drink my tea and tell her all about my journey over. She listens, staring off into space and nodding every once in a while. In fact, I'm not even sure she's paying attention what I'm saying until I mention the boy with the snake. She lifts an eyebrow, interest piqued. "What did the boy look like?"

"Hm, well, I guess I was paying more attention to his snake. I only really remember white hair." I pause. I try to think back, realizing I can't really remember much about him. The memory of our prolonged eye contact does stick in my mind though, and I cringe. Very awkward. "And he had purple eyes. Why does it matter?" She taps her chin thoughtfully before shaking her head. 

"I suppose it doesn't. Katarina, aren't you tired? You've had quite a long few weeks." As if on cue, my eyelids feel heavy. Yawning, I follow her as she leads me to a small living area. I collapse onto the mattress and promptly fall asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

I’m not sure where I am at first when I wake up. Bookshelves surround me, as well as some plants dangling from the ceiling. I smell a faint aroma wafting in, and I take a deep breath. I squeeze the cushions underneath me and sigh. Aunt Delia’s shop. I can’t believe after all this time dreaming about this place I’m finally here. I head down the stairs to see Aunt Delia sitting at the table, sewing and humming quietly to herself. 

“Good morning,” she says without looking up. “I have a task for you.” 

Eagerly, I go to her side, where she hands me a piece of paper. On it is another map of the city with a large x on it. There are words underneath the x, but it wasn’t exactly normal for women in my town to be taught to read. I try my best to decipher them, but quite frankly, I have no clue what they say. Aunt Delia notices my expression and tilts her head. 

“Were you taught to read?” I blush and shake my head. She tuts. “Of course they didn’t teach you. I figured my sister would be better than that but I see not. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you, just not right now. Today I’m going to start getting you acquainted with Vesuvia so you can find your way without getting too terribly lost. For now, I need you to go to the baker’s and get a dozen cardamom muffins for me. It’s not too far from here so you should be alright. This should cover it.” 

She hands me a small satchel and a basket before returning to her sewing. I look to her to see if she says anything else, but she keeps her eyes down. I guess that she trusts me enough to get the job done, but the way she just says all she has to say and doesn’t embellish is kind of disconcerting. I’m not sure if it’s because I just started being her apprentice yesterday, or if that’s just how she is. Shrugging, I leave the shop. 

People are already bustling around the streets, but it’s nowhere near as busy as it was yesterday. I look at the map, trying to figure out which way I should go. It looks like it leads to the area I was in yesterday, so hopefully I know roughly where I’m going. Now that I’m not worn out and in a hurry, I can take in more of the city. I must have slept in a little bit because shops are already open. The farther I walk from the shop, the louder my surroundings get. Before I know it, I’m in a marketplace. A man argues loudly with someone over the price of fish while his two children take off down the street. Exasperated, he chases off after them, sneakily putting the fish in his satchel. I wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t rehearsed this before. A woman dramatically flings her arms in the air, singing loudly and off-key. Is this what it’s like all the time? 

I find the baker’s stall, but there’s no one there. Curiously, I peek over the stall to see a boy about my age asleep on the ground. I debate whether I should wake him or not when his eyes snap open. He stands up hurriedly, smacking my nose with his head in the process. I hold my nose in shock while he waves his arms. 

“I am so so sorry,” he says, stepping out from the stall. I move my hand, staring at the blood in my hand. He gasps and scrambles to find something to wipe up the blood. He pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to me. I accept it and hold it to my nose, looking at him. He looks so panicked I can’t help but giggle. Once he sees that I’m okay, he starts laughing too. Soon, we’re both bent over, trying to catch our breath as we laugh at the absurdity of the situation. We must look like complete idiots, but when I finally look around me, it seems no one is paying attention. 

“I’m Selasi,” the boy says, extending his hand. I shake it and move the handkerchief away from my face. “I’m so sorry for, uh, that.” 

“Katarina,” I reply with a grin. He does look genuinely sorry. “And it’s okay. I needed a real wake up this morning.” 

“So what brings you to my humble stall?” 

“Aren’t you a bit young to be running a stall by yourself?” I can’t help but ask. He puffs his chest out indignantly. 

“I’ll have you know I’m seventeen, which is a perfectly good age to run a stall by myself. But, ah, yes, these are from my master’s bakery.” 

“Does your master approve of sleeping at the stall and attempting to kill his customers?” 

“I said I was sorry,” he pouts. I feel a little bad, so I reel back. 

“Well, apology accepted I suppose. Anyways, I need a dozen cardamom muffins.” Selasi selects a basket and hands it to me to examine. I nod and place them in my own basket. As I hand him the contents of my pouch, he hands me a loaf. 

“As an apology gift,” he says when I try to protest. He nods to the bloody handkerchief in my hand. “You can keep that too as something to remember me by.” I laugh and tuck it into my belt. 

“I doubt I’ll be forgetting you any time soon Selasi.” I wave him farewell and head back to the shop. 

The trip back to the shop seems much faster than the trip to the market. Perhaps it’s because I’m more familiar with my surroundings now. Or maybe it has to do with my growling stomach and the muffins in my basket. When I reach the shop, Aunt Delia is holding the door open for a customer that’s leaving. The customer is holding a package of sorts and is thanking her repeatedly. My aunt just smiles graciously and waves them off. I walk in through the doorway and hand her the basket. She takes it, but then doubles back on my face. 

“Katarina dear, did you get in a bar fight?” I can tell she’s joking, but I can also hear the worry in her voice. She sits me down and then goes to the back of the shop, rummaging through a cabinet. She returns with a wet rag that she gingerly dabs my face with. When she touches my nose, I wince. It hurts more than when I remember it. “I do believe your nose is broken.” 

“Broken?” I say in surprise. My second day in Vesuvia and my nose is already broken. I guess I was in shock when Selasi hit me and it hadn’t hurt as much. 

“Yes, but don’t worry about it that much. Tell me what happened.” I recount the trip to the market, waking Selasi and getting headbutted in the face. Meanwhile, she massages the bridge of my nose. I try to focus on the details of my story and not the pain that was growing with every moment. She nods and sighs. “Oh Selasi. His heart is in the right place but it’s no wonder why he’s still an apprentice and not running his own bakery. Very talented at baking though.” 

I’m so distracted thinking about not feeling my pain that I don’t actually notice that I’m not in pain anymore. Aunt Delia leans back in satisfaction and turns back to the basket of baked goods, 

“Ah, a pumpkin loaf. How generous of him.” She rips off a piece and places it into her mouth. I rub my nose, staring at her. She takes no notice and continues to eat the loaf. 

“Aunt Delia, didn’t you say my nose is broken?” I ask, still feeling up my nose. There’s a dull ache, but nothing more. She nods, still chewing. “Well, but, it’s not broken? It barely hurts.” 

She hands me a muffin. I take it but keep staring at her, waiting for answers. She pretends not to notice, but I’m persistent. Finally, she looks over at me. 

“Dear, did you really think I invited you hear to live with me to learn to be a seamstress? You’ve been trained since you were a baby by your mother. What more could I teach you?” 

“Well, I don’t know. But what does this have to do with my broken not broken nose?” 

“Katarina, I brought you here to study magic.”

"Magic? Like, honest to goodness magic? Like tarot reading and fire ball magic?" I literally can't wrap my head around it. My parents had always told me magicians were tricksters, relying on people's hopes and preying on their distractedness for a coin. And yet, here I am, with a nose that had been broken 5 minutes ago that isn't anymore. Aunt Delia smiles as I take it in.  
"Yes, magic. I'm not very good with tarot cards or fire balls, but I can teach you a trick or two." I rub my arm.  
"I didn't even think magic was real until just now. What if I can't even do one spell?"  
"Katarina, I wouldn't have invited you to work with me if I didn't think you had it in you." I shake my head slightly and her gaze softens. "If you're not comfortable doing it for now that's okay. We can just work on tailoring if you'd like."

"Yes please," I reply meekly. It's not as if I don't want to do magic, but well, seeing as I just found out about it minutes before I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Say I did learn. Who was to say that I would be any good? People spent their whole lives learning magic. I'd never heard of a magician starting out so late. Then again, I guess I've never talked to a magician before. Or I guess I've talked to Aunt Delia before? I shake my head to clear my thoughts. "I'd definitely like to work more on sewing."

Aunt Delia kept her word. For the next month she ordered me around, having me fetch goods from around town, help out with customer orders, cook, clean, all basic apprentice things. Sometimes though, she would work with a customer who needed something of the magical variety. To make sure that I wasn't doing nothing, she handed me a beautiful cream dress and told me to detail it however I like. However, she advised me the dress was for someone of high importance and that I needed to work on it to the best of my ability, and that it needed to be completed within a couple weeks. I spent all my free time, which was admittedly little, working on the dress. At night, I would lay awake thinking of who the dress would be for and how to make sure every stitch was perfect. Aunt Delia would occasionally pick it up and criticize it, having me redo pieces. I finally believe I have finished it and hold it up to her to examine. She smiles and nods in satisfaction.

"Very exquisite work, my dear," she says, taking the dress from me. "Can you guess what this dress is for?"

"A celebration of some sort, I suppose," I say. I'm honestly a little sad I'll have to part with it after I've spent so much time and effort on it.

"Not just any celebration. Every year the Count holds a Masquerade lasting four days in honor of his reign. However, tomorrow's Masquerade is extra special as it welcomes the new Countess Nadia." Ahhh. I nod in understanding. This must be the dress for Nadia. She hands me the dress and smiles. "Here you are." 

"So, how are we delivering this dress to the Countess?" Aunt Delia tilts her head before bursting out in laughter.

"I'm sure our Countess would be charmed by the gesture, but I'm sure she would never wear a dress like this. The dress is for you sweetheart. For you to wear to the Masquerade."

My mouth drops open. I was the someone of high importance? The hours I put into the dress, not even realizing it was for me. I suppose it would make sense for my aunt to critique it, seeing as it's the fanciest dress I've ever worn to the fanciest event I've ever been to. I hold the dress up, wondering if I should try it on. As if reading my mind, Aunt Delia nods. Excitedly, I strip to my undergarments. I can feel her amused gaze on me but I can only focus on the dress. I slide it carefully over my shoulders and turn around so she can fasten the back. I gently smooth out the fabric in wonder. I knew that the fabric was high quality, but wearing it felt completely different than holding it. I twirled around, marveling at how light it felt. Funny as it sounds, I could feel the love I had put into this dress, and though the fabric and feeling was foreign, it felt familiar all the same. 

"You look beautiful Katarina, but you should get rest. You'll need it for the next four days." I nod, turning around for her to undo the clasps. I slide out of it and hang it up on the wall before slipping on my other clothes. I kiss her cheek before rushing to bed, eager to see what the Masquerade holds.


End file.
